


unraveling

by alltheworldsinmyhead



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, cries silently, s2 divergence, written before the finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3844615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltheworldsinmyhead/pseuds/alltheworldsinmyhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dedalus warned icarus not to fly too close to the sun, but it didn't stop him; neither it stopped bellamy/ how exactly bellamy blake fell for clarke griffin/</p>
            </blockquote>





	unraveling

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers up to 2x09 ( aka the most painful episode in the history of the television)

_**"He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking."** _

_**― Leo Tolstoy Anna Karenina** _

* * *

And in the end, she's the one who finally breaks him ( and he let her in, oh, he did)

* * *

When he sees her for the first time, he thinks she's pretty.

When he talks with her for the first time, he thinks she's just another privileged girl, scared of life without the constant support from her mother, blind and stupid. He compares her with Octavia; his fierce, wonderful sister who has never had things which were given to this girl, served for her on the silver plate.

He kinda hates her, only for this.

He thinks ''She's going to bring the whole goddamn Ark down here''

He thinks ''This girl is gonna get me killed''

(he isn't wrong)

* * *

She hums softly, her hands gentle and strong ( stronger, stronger than his) as she presses the knife to Atom's neck. He knows that this death is on him, that it will be forever on him; but she's the one with the blood on her hands. She faces him and there is no blue in her eyes anymore, only silver, steel.

He looks at her, he can't stop looking at her, cannot stop looking at her hair and cheeks and eyes, because this girl has just killed somebody out of mercy, she did it for that poor boy he punished for nothing, she took it on her own arms and how can she look so beautiful with it?

Yeah, she can. She does.

* * *

Her best friend dies and she doesn't break down. He finds it really hard not to respect that

(respect  _her)_

* * *

The flares are impossibly bright on the dark, night sky, but he swears, her eyes are brighter as she looks up and he has never felt more beastly than now, knowing that they are actual people up there, not just any people, but his people- Joe from Food Department and Eliza, his first girlfriend and his neighbor, old woman called Annie who had to know about O, but she has never said a word. These are his people and now they all will be dead, all ( again, fucking again) because of his stupid mistake. And if they survive, it won't be because of him, but because of Princess; because she apparently does care about more than the tip of her nose.

He looks up. He doesn't know what to wish for.

( or maybe he does and it will be a death wish. But it's too soon to put it in words, even in his own head)

* * *

The most surprising fact is that he's not surprised at all.

A few days earlier he wouldn't believe it, but he came to acknowledge that this girl is just more. And maybe they are not so different after all.

He tells her she doesn't have to look at this.

But she does, she does look. And it somehow helps, because he doesn't have to carry this burden alone; because she carries it along his side, like she began to do, somehow, at some point.

He is grateful.

Her soft skin turned ivory, despair written on her face and he waits for her to back down, but she doesn't, she stays here till the very end.

( he learns to never underestimate her ever again)

He knows how she's felling, he knows it too well; maybe that's why he tells her the lie he kept on telling himself on and on. And maybe that's why she believes him and starts repeating it herself, knowing it's a lie ( we are who we are) but being too tired to deny the comfort it brings to her bones .

* * *

_I need you_ , she says, and after that he stops listening, because how she can say it? She can do it alone, he knows that. She's strong like that, strong enough to carry all this shit alone. But then he realizes, he doesn't want her to have to carry it alone; her muscles are already too tense, her limbs to weary, just like his ( it's a heavy burden. Not so easy being in charge. Not as easy as he thought it would be).

 _I need you_ , she says. Not as a sigh of weakness but as a sigh of strength. He knows himself how hard is to admit to being…  _human_.

 _You are forgiven_ , she says and he thinks ( you have no power to forgive me) but he takes what she offers and he takes it gladly.

( still remembering the excitement burning bright in her eyes, warmth of her arm under his hands)

* * *

When his mum died, he had spent two weeks barely breathing.

When her mum dies in front of her eyes, she pulls herself up and builds herself back from ashes in one night.

_( it's not even respect anymore, it's so much more)_

* * *

82 alive is his new motto. 82 alive and we still carry on, Princess

* * *

_You inspire them_ , she tells you and he wants to say: but  _you inspire me_  and it would be true, but it's not a time, not a place. Instead of saying something, he does something; he stays. He stays beside her and fights and then everything goes to hell and the last thing he sees is the gleaming of golden hair as she closes the dropship door.

Before the fire starts, he wonders when exactly she grew a skin so thick and how much you can misjudge a person at the first look.

* * *

Collins is going batshit crazy and he misses her. He doesn't know if she's even alive; but he doesn't want to think about it too much. He's too afraid that if he did, he might end up killing a few Grounders himself.

Come back, Princess. Please. I need you.

He lays wide awake at night, eyes wide open, haunted by her locks and her smile and this Oppenheimer quote and the way she looked at him sometimes.

* * *

He has no idea what's going on, when she wraps his arms around his neck.

He doesn't even think, mostly because he can't think straight with her body pressed to his like that, not while hearing as she whispers his name over and over again, holding on tightly.

He does the only think he can.

He hugs her back; he hugs her back because she's alive and she's back and he is thanking every single god that was ever named and created for bringing her back to him.

( in this one moment, everything is just perfect, for the first time ever. Because he has Clarke in his arms and Octavia by his side and that's how it was always supposed to be, this is it; and everything else is an epically great mess but he just can't bring himself to even care)

( not when she looks at him like that)

* * *

He knows what he feels for her, he does. The fire paints shadow on her bruised face and he thinks about it, trying to find the worlds to suit this feeling.

He was always good with words. But it seems so hard right now; how can one world describe it all?

How can it describe how much he wants her, without underestimating how much he respects her, how can it cover how much he cares for her, how willing is her to protect her but also acknowledge her strength?

Maybe Clarke is way too complicated woman, to find a word for it.

( or maybe he can't use it's true name, the most simple of all)

She looks him straight in the eyes, just like she always does. Never backing down, his equal, or maybe even superior

The simplest word of them all.

She bats her eyelashes, sad, small smile on her lips.

(love)

* * *

She stands tall and he can't take her eyes out of her, because she did it, holy god in heavens, she did it.

She stands tall, the weight of the world heavy on her shoulders and her hands, once again, bathed in blood.

He wants to save her from this and he wants to drop on his knees and worship her and he has never ever felt something so impossibly powerful before and it tears him in half ( all of his walls break down, just like that, because he can't he won't pretend anymore, never)

(watch my queen conquer)

* * *

He doesn't walk by her side, like he used to, but it's okay. He tells himself it's not that he became less, it's that she suddenly became so much more ( or maybe she had this inside he all along and they were all blind children in the fog). He follows her like a shadow, though. And he's ready to catch her; he should've known better, she is way too strong now to fall ( for him). But she says no for the first time ever not looking into his eyes and when he keep on pushing, something inside her breaks and

( I can't lose you too)

It's a way better argument that he needed. No more discussion. He's not going anywhere. Not now

(never)

* * *

And then she kills him.

She could've as well pierce his hear with that knife of hers, really. He has been stabbed a couple of times and that's how it remembers this pain; sharp and burning and he can't breath

( Clarke, why did

Why did you do this-)

( Clarke)

He's wrong. Betrayal hurts more than knife and she turns around and he swears, he has stopped breathing, because she is okay with him dead and he realizes ( what a fucking joke) that he is still willing to do it for her, die for he, kill for her, go on a suicide mission for a girl that doesn't care about him enough to say godammt goodbye.

He is doing this for her slender back and tiny figure disappearing in the dark, for the last glance on her steel-thick skin and blue eyes not blue anymore and for the halo of golden curls laying loosely on her shoulders.

He does it for the things he has never said and for the feelings she has never had and for all of the words that suddenly lose all their meaning at this one tiny moment.

And he jumps when she tells him to and he just asks how high and he tortures when she orders him to and yes, he goes and actually gets himself killed, because they used to be equal partners and friends, but then he fell for her ( for the knife pressed to Atom's neck, lips slightly parted, a hum of the last lullaby he keep on hearing everywhere all the time) and from then on, his fate was sailed.

Women say. And men who love them do.

( because no more pretending Clarke and because not Princess, but Queen and because he understands Gustus all too well)

( and because he is the Icarus that fell for the sun, metaphorically and literally and he knows it )

And she gets him killed.

But if you could ask him, he would probably say it didn't happen in the Mount Weather, but in the moment his life became something she started to play with.

And he loves her, he loves her, he loves her.

* * *

But she needs him and  _come back, come back, please, no_

* * *

(too much. )

* * *

 

> _' **'How to kill a king;**_
> 
> _**it's simple** _
> 
> _**first** _
> 
> _**find a queen** _
> 
>  
> 
> _**make her strong** _
> 
> _**make her smart** _
> 
> _**make her fierce** _
> 
> _**make her beautiful** _
> 
> _**make her kind** _
> 
>  
> 
> _**add lust and simmer** _
> 
>  
> 
> _**then scrape away all the love** _
> 
> _**serve warm and** _
> 
> _**wrapped in silk** _
> 
>  
> 
> _**now** _
> 
> _**watch him choke''** _

* * *

 


End file.
